Dusk: A Twilight ReWrite
by AlphaOmegaPsi
Summary: Twilight revamped! Shiny new personalities all around! M/F, Angst


AN: So, here's the deal: I read Twilight, and found it to be less than satisfactory. So, I'm re-writing it with the improvements I think it should have contained in the original version. Now, I'm not here to bash it and go on and on about how much I hate it. I just dislike it and I want to take a crack at fixing it. So for those of you who might have been thinking of flaming me...I suggest you don't. Fair warning: I will post any flaming comments for the world to see and make fun of. You will not be warned.

(NOTE: This chapter was written in Wordpad. At the time, my Microsoft Word was down. I hate writing in Wordpad, so this chapter is considerably shorter than I want them to be. Hopefully, now that my beloved Word is back, I will be able to make lengthier chapters for all to enjoy)

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I sighed as I stared out over the dark green trees. The same ones I had seen as a little kid, but with several new layers of fresh bark to remind me just how long I had been away. It was beautiful here, but strange. I hadn't visited in so long that it felt like a foreign land. It made me feel like a warrior returning home from a long battle, only to find his village had burned to the ground and all his family had left.

Well, maybe that was a little dramatic, but still.

"Cheer up, Bella," my dad said from the driver's seat. He thought my sigh was one of consternation. "We'll be home soon, and you'll feel much better. I just refurnished your room. Hope it doesn't look too different." A small smile spread across my face. My dad had always been one to babble when he had nothing else to say. It was kind of funny, but embarassing at times. It was one of the things I loved about him, though. One of the things that made him my dad.

We passed a sign, brown with a green trim, announcing "Welcome to Forks" at us. Forks was a small, sleepy little town in Washington. I had been born there, and spent a good chunk of my childhood growing up in my father's house. After my parents divorced, I stayed with him during the summers. Once I hit my teen years, however, my mom got it into her head that she needed to watch over me all the time. So after that, I only saw my dad when he visited me. Sure, I wrote and called, and I was guaranteed to see him every holiday, but it wasn't the same. I still missed him a lot.

After my mom remarried, she decided to travel with her fiancee all over the world. It was his job, but it wasn't as if he was ever gone more than a month at a time. She could have easily stayed home, and then I wouldn't have had to leave all my friends at home. I guess it was kind of a good thing, though. I got to come stay with my dad. It would be a little weird at first, but if the alternative was travelling indefinitely with my mom...I would gladly make Forks my home.

"There's the school," dad said, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see a decent sized brick building looming before me. The words "Forks High School" adorned a small sign that matched the one welcoming people into town. I chuckled to myself. How original.

"You better pay attention to where we're going," my father warned. "You're going to be driving there every day from the house." I frowned, looking at him for what seemed like the first time since I'd gotten in the car.

"I don't...have a car, dad." He didn't answer, just stared straight ahead with a smile on his face. My eyes widened and I sat up straighter, determined to memorize the route.

A few minutes later, we pulled into the small, two-story house that had been my childhood home. It still felt so familiar; it was exactly the same, right down to the rusty gutters and the sky-blue paint. For the first time since arriving, I felt relieved, like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. This felt right. This felt like home.

I turned to walk into the house, but was stopped by a very solid truck. Through some careful, yet dorky, maneuvering, I managed to keep from falling on my butt in the cold driveway.

"What do you think?" my dad asked, joining me by the bright red vehicle. I blinked, uncomprehending for a moment. Then it dawned on me.

"This is mine?" I exclaimed. He nodded, grinning.

"I bought it off of Billy Black cheap," he said. He looked proud of himself. "His son fixed it up and brought it over here this morning. I thought I'd surprise you with it. I know it would be embarrassing to be dropped off at school in a police cruiser."

Without a word, I threw my arms around his shoulders and embraced him. This had to be the most wonderful gift I had ever received.

"Thank you so much, dad," I said happily. "This is great. I love it." He sighed, as if relieved. He probably thought I would hate it.

"Let's, uh...get your stuff inside," he suggested. "You can get all settled in and get to sleep early for your first day of Forks High School." I grabbed my stuff eagerly, stealing an excited glance at my new truck before entering the house.

It was amazing; even the smell of the house hadn't changed a bit. My mind was flooded with old memories of my childhood. Sitting by the fireplace with my dad, roasting midnight marshmallows; opening presents at christmas; curling up on the couch when I was sick to watch television. This was definitely, without a doubt, home.

"I ordered pizza for dinner." My dad scuffed his feet on the floor, as if waiting to see how I would react. "I hope you don't mind mushrooms." I shook my head. Mushrooms were my favorite.

"Call me when it gets here," I said, climbing the stairs up to my room. I was eager to unpack and get settled.

I don't know what I had expected when dad said he'd refurnished room, but regardless I was relieved. It had been repainted to a pale yellow, stripped of all that godawful clown wallpaper I had been so fond of as a child. There was a tan wooden desk in the corner with a computer sitting proudly atop it. Beside the door was a large dresser, painted a pale blue. Pictures of me as a kid, dad, and mom were already displayed on the top shelf, windows to a happy past. Across the room was a window, which gave a wonderful view of the town. Finally, my bed, a bare twin-sized mattress in a sturdy wooden frame, stood against the only empty wall.

I hefted my two large duffel bags onto the bed, taking a minute to just take it all in. This was my room now; my haven. It was the place I could call my own. I could feel myself tearing up, but forced it back. There was unpacking to do.

But...my gaze was drawn to the computer. If it had internet access, I could check to see if one of my friends had e-mailed me. I had an internal back and forth for a grand total of two minutes before I abandoned the bags and sat before the monitor.

It was a little slow getting on the internet...probably dial-up. I wasn't a very patient person, but as long as I had internet I could deal with it. To my immense relief, the overly cheerful "You've got mail" voice chimed in my ear as soon as I was logged on. One was from Brand, my previous next-door neighbor, and the other was from Lisa, my best friend from school. Both messages were basically the same: They missed me; how was the plane ride; write back soon with details. I wrote them both a quick message, saying I'd tell them both about my first day of school after I'd had it, then logged off just as I heard the doorbell ring. My stomach rumbled loudly; I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and even that was light. I always got nervous on planes. I was looking forward to the cheesey, gooey, greasy pizza.

With one last glance around the room, I dashed out the door and down the stairs.


End file.
